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[willowspoems]

sipping-sugar

an original poem by willowspoems

melted worries tell me something different; a new tale, perhaps, in the prospect of withering-away my woes. it’s far too foreign a feeling for me to sit still, let it be while the elements of my life drag me along. you’re new for me, but it doesn’t feel that way. maybe i knew you gut-wrenchingly-deep in another lifetime; isn’t that just the sweetest?

something greater conspired to weave our paths together, stitching moments from threads of my life i never knew existed. there's something so marvelous in the unexpected; a gentle pull that somehow yanks me to a love-sick reality and whispers promises of utter elation.

your presence is a balm to the itchy, red chaos; a reminder that, perhaps, in this rash of existence, there are pockets of serenity meant just for us.

isn't it strange how comfort can be found in the unknown? a raw kiss of solace that’s otherwise been unbeknownst to me and my fragile truth. how beautiful is it? that the heart recognizes what the mind cannot yet fathom--something so pure's ought to be tainted, right?

but, you've defied the odds, you enigma. always shooting for the stars, aren't ya? just like that, you’ve taken my fears, in those hard-working, calloused palms i’ve come to admire, and melded them into something i've had yet to experience--excitement.

never did i think i’d be able to differentiate the two: anxiety and apprehension. as someone who feeds on my own nerves it was a bridge i figured i’d never get to cross--just something built-up in the distance; untouchable, a fleeting, tantalizing conundrum not meant for me to overtake. my mind’s always worked overtime to soothe the turmoil that rots inside me; a dangerous thing that’s taken me by the reigns and refused to let go.

but, lately i’ve come to realize that my displeasures, once so formidable, are depleted, now replaced by your sun-kissed skin and the promise of a new beginning.

[willowspoems]

Deceitful Flesh

an original short story by willowspoems

I yearned to capture the fleeting essence of the lights dancing upon your visage as our worlds shifted, that pivotal moment when lively pink radiance turned to an eerie glow against your lifeless, oh-so-dead complexion. Your face contorted in that paralyzing gasp of twisted fate. Surprised, weren’t you?

My memory faded into oblivion, replaced by the moon's gentle kiss on my skin and your fingers coiling around my neck with an insidious grip, akin to a serpent ensnaring its prey. Each squeeze drained life from me, rendering my head as weightless as a balloon in the clutches of a spiteful child from your distant past. And as my soul departed, a mere spectator to the scene below, your grasp remained unyielding, your knuckles stark white, teeth clenched in determination. I wanted to scream, to concede defeat, "You've won, let go."

----

Beneath the shelter of the tablecloth, my restless hands danced, stealing furtive glances towards the door in anxious anticipation. With every passing moment, my unease swelled, mimicking the frenetic flicker of the plastic candle's flame, a mocking echo of the racing of my fast-paced heart

A whirlwind of adrenaline propelled me from my home, my once meticulously- straightened hair now a disheveled mess, strands adhering to my lips like strands of silk, tainted by the gloss I had so carefully applied just moments before. With no time to summon a cab, I relied on feet to carry me to the café, abandoning the impractical heels for sensible flats. How absurd I must have appeared, after investing hours in preparing for this date, now sprinting down the sidewalk, newly-formed perspiration mingling with lip gloss, a testament to my efforts. 

And then, finally, relief washed over me as the restaurant loomed into view.

Twenty minutes had elapsed since my punctual arrival, yet despondency threatened to engulf me. Granting a final reprieve of five minutes, I endured the silent scrutiny of passersby, a lone figure amidst a sea of bustling diners. With a resigned sigh, I rose, masking humiliation as I bid farewell to the empty chair and thanked the waiter. Stepping outside, I was greeted by…

her silhouette.

Though previously confined to photographs, her identity was unmistakable, ebony locks cascading as she hastened towards me.

Wait. Was she running?

Halting to catch my breath, I watched as the restaurant's entrance drew nearer.

And there he stood.

As he emerged from the café, his gaze met mine, a blush staining his cheeks. Tall and composed, he exuded an aura of confidence that contrasted with my disarray.

As her gaze lingers on me, I can almost sense the wheels turning in her mind, attempting to decipher my thoughts. Little does she know, she's venturing into uncharted territory. 

And then it dawns on me, she probably thinks I’m leaving. 

Well, that was the initial plan, fueled by doubt over her punctuality. Nearly left hungry, how pathetic. Now, gazing at her disheveled appearance, her earnest effort strikes me. Poor thing, she must’ve really wanted to meet me. 

How naive, how unsuspecting. 

Lost in contemplation, I hastened towards her as she mirrored my approach.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Closer now, her features became distinct, truly a sight to behold.  Her golden skin, her decadent skin, flowing hair, brilliant white smile as she flashed her teeth with a giggle. Realizing I was staring at her, I my sucked my bottom lip between my teeth and averted my gaze. 

That smile’s too damn bright, too damn recognizable. I’ll need to change that.

To meet his gaze, I had to tilt my chin upwards, unveiling a handsome adorned with freckles akin to a celestial tapestry. Never before had I beheld such a handsome face. As he scrutinized me, a giggle escaped my lips, swiftly subdued as his laughter mingled with mine, soothing my apprehensions.

I chuckled in harmony with her, the resonance of joy too potent to suppress. The unadulterated exhilaration and eagerness bubbled within me, threatening to overflow as it traveled up my throat.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. Work went overtime and I wanted to look perfect and I—”

Apologies spilled from my throat, a torrent of excuses tempered only by his reassuring demeanor. 

I interjected, cutting off her apologetic stream. “Hey hey hey, it's alright! You're here now, and that's all that matters! Looking gorgeous, I might add.” 

It's amusing, isn't it? The flurry of preparation earlier, the anticipation palpable in every gesture, yet unaware of the true nature of our encounter. Even if you had arrived on time, my intentions would remain unchanged. By the way, my dear, the lateness and my voracious appetite are unrelated. Whether punctual or tardy, I had every intention of pretty-pink-face blue with the sheer power of my hands.

"No man has ever made me blush like this,” I murmured, anxiously twisting a strand of hair between my fingertips.

“I’m surprised,” I chuckled at her blatant insecurity, but truly, I was surprised. That lucious hair, those cherry lips, how could she possibly go unnoticed? And oh god, that skin, that beautiful, tender flesh. I salivated and sucked in my breath, my hands clamping at my sides as I envisioned the taste. 

----

We ventured inside the intimate confines of the restaurant, our table awaiting amidst a throng of diners.

"Charming place," I remarked as he pulled out my chair. What a gentleman.

She must marvel at my gallantry. Could she possibly discern the true depths of my intentions? Certainly not.

Observing her graceful movements as she settled into her chair, I couldn't help but admire her natural poise and tentative demenor as she expertly pulled her dress below her thighs before sitting.

“What do you think you’ll be having tonight?”

Her head tilted ever so slightly as she posed the question.

“Steak. You?”

I wish I could just tell her to disregard the first word. Focus on the second, remove the question. You.

“A man of taste.” She winked.

You have no idea.

----

Our evening unfolded amidst laughter and anecdotes, culminating in an embrace within the confines of the restaurant.

As the evening waned, we retreated to his car, ensconced in a cocoon of warmth and familiarity. His scent enveloped me, mingling with the metallic tang of anticipation. Although it was our first encounter, I felt an inexplicable affinity towards him, a sense of belonging that defied logic. His sly smile, his intoxicating scent, a blend of cologne and steel, enveloped me in a sense of security.

How swiftly fate has intertwined our destinies. 

But fortune favors the cunning, after all.

----

We entered his apartment in a flurry of passion, my hands cradling his face while our lips remained locked in a fervent embrace. With a swift motion of his leg, he nudged the door shut behind us as we stumbled towards the living room, the intensity of our kiss unabated.

She possessed a remarkable skill in kissing; a pity it will all be for naught. Initially, I had envisioned a series of dates before indulging in the consumption. But perhaps she had intended this to be nothing more than a fleeting hook-up, a mere "one-night stand,” and I couldn't afford to squander such an opportunity.

Our kisses betrayed the gravity of our desires as we made our way to his couch. His inadvertent nip at my lip drew blood, a fleeting moment of discomfort swiftly overshadowed by the intoxicating allure of his embrace.

I guided her to the couch, where she reclined gracefully. Positioning myself atop her, the sudden movement caused my teeth to graze her lip inadvertently. As the metallic tang of her blood flooded my senses, I found myself captivated by its intoxicating sweetness, a sensation unlike any other I had experienced. With each drop, an insatiable hunger stirred within me, a taste of a serving that demanded at least a dozen more.

Despite the unintended exchange, she continued to embrace me with fervor, oblivious to the crimson stain upon our encounter. Beneath the facade of passion, my primal urges surged forth, compelling me to satiate my voracious appetite.

I longed for her flesh, a craving that demanded satiation.

I allowed our embrace to continue, our lips locked in a desperate dance. As our mouths melded together seamlessly, I seized the opportunity to stealthily retrieve the blade concealed within my back pocket.

Now is my chance.

In an instant, the world was engulfed in silence, save for the gasps of shock and agony echoing throughout the apartment complex.

Breath was cut-off by the strength of one’s hand around another’s throat, steel pursed flesh, and...

He tasted divine.

[willowspoems]

woolen fallacy

an original poem by willowspoems

you're a wolf in sheep’s clothing,

a dagger fit to play the part,

disguised as a dull blade, slicing through my malleable heart.

you weave tales with a silver tongue, deceitful words, so finely spun.

each touch, each glance, all these calculated moves,

a game i always seemed to lose.

beneath the surface, shadows lie,

a truth i can't yet signify.

i gave my trust, an open door, and you walked right in,

then asked for more.

you're a fox in the henhouse, a thorn amongst roses,

how else must i say it, in all its poses?

i've been lured in by that siren's call,

left alone to fend and crawl,

betrayed by the one supposed to catch me when i fall.

i'm in a fortress built from my empty dreams,

dismantled by your silent schemes.

well, it's too late now,

go ahead,

take your bow.

'cause the curtains have fallen,

so the wool slips off,

and the wolf's unveiled.

and suddenly i see so clearly

where i have failed.

[willowspoems]

untethered feminine

an original poem by willowspoems

it’s no secret that men struggle to grasp the nuances of a woman's soul. 

they imagine our only troubles are hair clinging to lip gloss—trivial, perhaps, but overshadowed tenfold by the battles our mothers waged.

he seeks a mirage of meekness,

a figure draped in quietude,

dressed modestly, never challenging,

even when she ought to.

a soft-spoken woman,

who swallows without wincing, 

and bites her tongue before protesting.

her own desires tucked away,

rationale fleeing her skull,

losing sight of what she wants to be,

conceding her mind to whispers of

“my husband will decide for me.”

i am not that woman,

i never will be,

and it amuses me he thinks such a creature even exists.

i am a woman of my own creation,

a force shaped by my own design,

free from his narrow dictation,

unmoved by the pull of his line.

[willowspoems]

the solitude of displacement

an original poem by willowspoems

and then, 

all of a sudden,

i was discarded.

i was the dusty area between the wall and the baseboards; to the cleaning crew, unguarded.

i was a ball of lint tossed behind the old armchair, scrunched into the pavement like a used cigarette.

forgotten in the shadows, i became the silent sigh, a swift whisper lost beneath the muffled, hollow cry.

cast off and unnoticed, an echo of what was, drifting in the silence, far from the warmth of buzz.

i was the unseen cobweb, spun between the beams, a stain upon the carpet, erased from the seams.

a solitary leaf, crumpled in the fall, trampled underfoot, left to a fading call.

i thought i was sacred,

“so hard to replace.” 

and then, 

all of a sudden, 

i was your saving grace. 

[willowspoems]

⚘.✧˖° about me ⚘.✧˖°

here’s a teensy bit about me ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

i am a 20-year-old capricorn woman; my birthday is december 26th!

im a psychology major & i currently work as a barista.

i adore music & i’ve been a cellist for about eight years now!

i love to run long distance! i’ve been competing in races since freshman year of high school.

and i love to write, of course.

i enjoy morning coffee & long walks with my dog.

im an infj !

i use she/her pronouns & im bisexual ◡̈

[willowspoems]

⚘.✧˖° masterlist ⚘.✧˖°

poems:

⚘ prey in scarlet

⚘ amidst the inferno

⚘ in the hands of a sharpshooter

⚘ the solitude of displacement

⚘ untethered feminine

⚘ woolen fallacy

⚘ sipping-sugar

short stories:

⚘ deceitful flesh

[willowspoems]

⚘ welcome to my poetry blog ⚘

willow | 20 | she/her | capricorn | infj

⚘masterlist ⚘about me

[willowspoems]

in the hands of a sharpshooter

an original poem by willowspoems

you kept me hidden, 

tucked in your pocket,

a weapon only drawn in times of strife.

like a holstered gun for dire circumstances,

you only reached for me when you feared for your life.

despite knowing my use was but a fleeting act,

i fired each time you pulled my willing trigger.

i answered your call to silence your echoing voice,

just to quiet the noise and end the figure.

you favored that pistol over me, the rifle,

and you chose the lesser gun over my might.

still, i wonder why, though i resented you,

it stung when she claimed you from my sight.

you cast the blame, but i see clearly now,

though you aimed, it was i who bore the round.

because although you were the one pulling the trigger, 

the gun’s what really does the killing, right?

[willowspoems]

amidst the inferno

an original poem by willowspoems

it’s a subtle thing. 

an innocuous flame, maybe,

but one that’s hot, nonetheless.

it courses through my veins,

singes my blood with a foreign type of fire.

my flesh,

my bones,

lit up with some sort of trespassing ember.

a delicate dance, 

with a silent partner,

tightroping carefully,

along the line that stretches thin,

whispering secrets in the language of heat.

each heartbeat a testament to its presence,

each breath an offering to its flame.

it’s innocent at first glance, 

a needle, perhaps. 

but peel away the layers, 

and it’s a dagger, 

a lethal force,

hidden in plain sight; 

a killer at its core. 

a penetrating, all-consuming kind of blade;

creeps up my spine and sinks itself into my shoulder blades, 

to take root in my skull,

an unwelcome visitor,

but one that barges its way in, 

to find its home in the ridges of my brain, 

roads that even i,

the paver, 

had not yet traveled.

grooves that are frightening in their depths; 

enticing in their ambiguity.

so i tread cautiously,

careful where i place my feet.

god forbid i slip, 

fall, 

sink,

and turn to dust

in that engulfed place.

and though im withering away,

writhing as i do so,

you challenge me.

in ways I hadn’t prepared for.

beckon me into those uncharted realms,

test the fibers of my being

unanticipated.

i’ve always buried my anguish,

covered it in dirt,

locked it away

and swallowed the key.

and it petrifies me, 

an inexplicable fear, 

the way my pain trembles on the verge of unveiling itself 

in your presence. 

but for you,

i will rid myself of it all.

the contributors of my displeasure.

i'll strip away the layers of sorrow,

cast aside the burdens that weigh heavy,

offer them to the winds for a change.

but i’m a pathetic thing,

a symphony out of tune.

a rifle turned handgun.

gum used tasteless.

and stubbornly, i cling, 

resolute to hoard this anguish, mine alone,

it blazes fiercely within the fortress of my mind.

a hellish abode, 

forged of iron walls and doors,

where i'm shackled to the scorching metal,

each link of my captivity etched with torment,

too vast,

too weighty

for words to define.

so, i enclose myself

within this iron-clad mind.

where each lick of fire becomes

a sick mantra,

a gruesome metronome, 

conducting my body into nothingness. 

though the flames may rage,

and the chains bind,

you hold me, 

redirect my restless mind, 

curb my enigmatic sorrow.

and when the flames grow, 

and the blade strikes,

unexplainable,

uncontrollable,

you remain,

like you always do, 

lingering by my side. 

a constant presence

in the ebb and flow of my emotions. 

my lifeline amidst the inferno.

futile it seems,

to resist your allure,

for you are too intoxicating,

too relentless,

a soothing balm to my nocturnal wanderings.

an indelible mark etched into my skull,

the tantalizing possibility

of one who can...

sheathe this dagger,

halt this orchestra,

and extinguish 

this fire.

[willowspoems]

prey in scarlet

an original poem by willowspoems

it feels like my insides are bleeding from your intrusions; a simple sacrifice, solely mine, to grant you that indisputable pleasure.

your simple murmurs of “sorrys…” are mere gauze for my wounds; an interim solution, but a futile fix when it comes time to box with my ailments.

they’re far too deep, far too bloody, so the mess seeps through, stains the cool-white dressings with an angry, commanding crimson. it taints my skin with some sort of unavoidable grievance, and marks me as yours… in red, not ink. 

nipping baby teeth turn to dragging, tearing canines. pearly whites that were once playful and harmless become sharp and thirsty, and in no time, your touch is no longer tender. no more gentle caresses to my hips and thighs; soft fingertips turn to calloused pads of authority. 

no longer am I met with those deep, concerned eyes. those irises have turned hungry, and i’m no longer your lover; suddenly i’m prey caught in a hunter’s gaze. 

now i’m a raw, wounded doe; a quivering creature who bears the scars of a gunman’s bullet, a living tapestry of your control.  you careless hunter, though your camouflage may fade and your weapon lie dormant, your infliction lingers, unyielding and heavy, pressing down on my bloody chest like a merciless vise.

were you even hungry, huntsman? or was my flesh simply tender enough, gullible enough, to sink your teeth into? a mess-free way to satiate that twisted aching, it seems. 

and as you leave me here, with my dripping-red bandages and my welled-up eyes, do you even stop to consider… what it must feel like… to be completely devoured… 

without dying?

i know, hunter.